Smoke Rings
by Sakata Ri Houjun
Summary: Life is but an illusion of sorts, fragile as smoky wisps shaped by a gentle breath. Reach for something substantial and grasp only air. Surely it must be the end, or maybe just the start of another illusion to cling to. OtogiMalik


Smoke Rings  
*part one  
by Sakata Ri Houjun  
  
Rating: R  
Pairing: Ryuuji/Malik  
Spoilers: End of Battle City  
Disclaimer: Is Yugioh full of orgies? No? Then I don't own it.  
  
AN: Short delay on my Seto/Jou fics due to problems with depression, so I fished out an old idea I've been kicking around for about 8 months now. This was the true start of my Mal/Togi obsession [though there are few who seem to share it]. I'm attempting to keep true to the characters and express why I thought this pairing might actually work, because much like Seto and Jounouchi share much in common I thought these two did as well.  
Feedback would be much appreciated since this is a new area I'm venturing into and I'd like to know if my idea is well-received.   
I'm not trying to bribe for reviews, but I'd like to know if this is something that people want to read about.  
  
Warning: Yaoi and angst. Sexual situations and suicidal thoughts.   
  
~***~

The night was always bitter and cold, unforgiving in its wrath, stealing the warmth of Ra and leaving only an empty darkness in its wake. To the lone Egyptian wandering the dimly lit streets of Domino, the world seemed more desolate now more than ever, a perfect physical reminder of what was left within his soul. Malik shivered, hands rubbing fruitlessly at his bare arms, finding no comfort in the slight heat the friction caused.  
  
He knew he should be heading back to the embassy, that his sister would be worrying herself into a frenzy at his prolonged absence, but he cared not. Though he had been freed from the darkness of his own heart, in turn he had brought something darker upon himself. An intense shame hung like a heavy shroud, burdening his soul and preventing the bronzed youth from facing his only family. For years he had been blind in his arrogance to liberate his clan from their destiny, only to bind himself to a fate that was darker than any of the catacombs could ever be.  
  
He had failed in his purposed role, failed his sister, and ultimately himself. There was no recourse but to return to Egypt, alone, and erase everything.  
  
Lost to his own contempt, his shuffling feet caught tripped over a prominent crack in the pavement, sending the poor Egyptian teen sprawling to the ground. On hands and knees, he cursed everything, a stream of his native tongue dancing through the shadows, certain that the fates were laughing at him, kicking him while he was down.  
  
"Careful," drawled a lazy voice, halting Malik mid-curse. "Wouldn't want to fall and hurt that pretty face, now would you?"  
  
The Egyptian turned, seeing the slender silhouette of the speaker haloed in the flickering glare of a street lamp. One hand lifted gracefully to his lips, the orange glow of a cigarette burning brightly, illuminating the shadowed contours of a vividly familiar face. A plume of smoke was exhaled into the still air before the still lit cigarette was tossed to the street and the figure approached Malik, the gait smooth and sensuous. A bitter hatred filled the other teen's heart at the appearance of one the Pharaoh's companions, but he could not bring himself to turn his face away as the light erased the remainder of shadows from the dice master's features, those sparkling jade eyes drawing his attention.  
  
Graceful hands slid under Malik's arm, gently tugging him up to his feet. "Not hurt are you?" he asked smoothly, his voice nothing more than low flirtatious purr in the night that rubbed against the Egyptian's skin like liquid velvet.  
  
Malik shivered before jerking away, fixing the slightly taller teen with a contemptuous glare that always made his underlings bow before him. "What are you doing here?" he snapped back, ignoring the warmth that crept through his cheeks and the tingle that lingered at the places where Ryuuji had touched him.  
  
One slim black brow lifted, taken aback by the outburst, but the raven-haired teen stood his ground. "Just getting some fresh air," he returned, his arms crossed casually across his chest, one hand gesturing lightly. "What about you? Shouldn't naughty little boys be at home with their sisters?"  
  
Malik stiffened at the comment, his amethyst eyes narrowing dangerously. "It's none of your business," he growled before turning. He knew he was acting no better than a child, as Ryuuji had indicated, but didn't care. His life was falling apart at the seams and those Ra-dammed eyes were sending all comprehensible thoughts fleeting.  
  
An amused chuckle moved like a hand across his skin, sending a prickling of gooseflesh along his bare arms a few heartbeats before hands descended upon bronzed shoulders, causing Malik to stiffen yet again. "Sounds like I've found a lost kitten that needs a home for the night," Ryuuji murmured, his mouth tantalizingly close to the delicate shell of the Egyptian's ear, shifting errant strands of platinum.  
  
Malik had half a mind to jerk away again, to spin and slap the raven-haired teen for this invasion of personal space. But even that thought was vaporized the moment those lips claimed his ear, suckling gently on that bit of captured flesh. The Egyptian youth's legs all but buckled at the sensation, a moan escaping unwillingly from his throat. The hands on his shoulders tightened before teeth laid claim as well, sending a jolt of pleasure unlike anything the once grave keeper ever felt.  
  
"What do you say?" Ryuuji pressed from around his mouthful. "I promise to take good care of you."  
  
"Yes..." came the breathless reply, a single syllable that floated out on the evening air before Malik had time or will to stop it. His eyes closed as Ryuuji released his ear, pulling away, but not entirely. He didn't want to face those enchanting eyes again, though aware of the effect the dice duelist was having on him just from a few simple touches and suggestive words.  
  
A hand caressed his face and he found himself leaning into the touch, the warmth from the dice worn palm permeating his being. "You're shivering," Ryuuji mused aloud, his fingers moving to thread through coarse hair slowly.  
  
"I don't...like the night," Malik admitted reluctantly, his brow furrowing. "It's cold..."  
  
"And you're a creature of the sun," he continued for him, his voice forever soft and gentle like his touch. A heartbeat later, the dice master drew Malik into an embrace, hands rubbing at his cold arms. The Egyptian's eyes sprang open at the motion, looking up in astonishment that someone he had considered an enemy once was doing this, and even more so at the fact that Ryuuji's ministrations were more successful than his own attempts.  
  
The taller teen met that wide amethyst stare with a smile before leaning down, pressing soft, dry lips to his temple in a chaste kiss that lingered, sending another thrill of delight through the bronzed teen's form. "I'll warm you up," he murmured softly before all but pulling away, one arm draped loosely around the slender waist, holding the Egyptian captive against his body.  
  
Mutely, Malik nodded, following the dice duelist as he was led through the dark streets, his mind a whirl of confusing thoughts, each one centered not on the consuming hate he had felt moments before but on the havoc Ryuuji was creating upon his body with his flirting, knowing with an almost certainty that he was to be the target of a one night stand. But the more the thought about it, the more he found he didn't mind. Perhaps this sort of thing was his last chance to feel alive before he succumbed to his ultimate failure.  
  
~***~  
  



End file.
